And, such was the wickedness of her spite,
The man took the toothache that very night.
With John Thow's wife she was at drawing of daggers,
And twenty of John's sheep took the staggers.
With old Joe Baxter she long had striven,--
Joe set his sponge, but it never would leaven;
And as for Gib Jenkinson's cow that gaed yeld,
It was very well known that Crummie was spelled.
When Luckie Macrobie's sweet milk wouldna erne,
The reason was clear--she bewitched the concern.
True! no man could swear that he ever saw
Her flee on a broomstick over North Berwick Law;
But as for the fact, where was she that night
When the heavens were blue with the levin-light?
The broom wasna seen ahint the door;
It had better to do than to sweep the floor.
Then, sure there was something far worse than a frolic,
When the half of Dundee was seized with the cholic.
True! nobody knew that she gaed to the howf
For dead men's fat to bring home in her loof,
To brew from the mixture of henbane and savin,
Her hell-broth for those who were thirsting for heaven.
For the sexton, John Cant, could be prudent and still--
He knew she would send him good grist to his mill.
Ere good Provost Syme was ta'en by a tremor,
It was known that the provost had called her a limmer;
And when Bailie Nicholson broke his heugh-bane,
Had she not been seen that day in the lane?
It was certain, because Cummer Gibbieson swore
That the bairn she had with the whummel-bore